


Of Nightmares And Infuriating Holograms

by Talvenhenki



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Picard
Genre: Angst, Cris is not okay, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:00:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22602841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talvenhenki/pseuds/Talvenhenki
Summary: Cristóbal wakes up from another nightmare.
Comments: 28
Kudos: 62





	Of Nightmares And Infuriating Holograms

**Author's Note:**

> My first Star Trek fic since the AOS fics I wrote in 2016/2017!! I watched the third episode this morning and decided to write this because Cris and his Holo Squad are my new favourites, I hope you'll enjoy this!

_The evacuation had been anything but organised. All the crew members had been running away, screaming and afraid, as the ship was being boarded by the attackers. Ibn Mājid was going down and there was nothing Cristóbal could do to stop it. As the first officer, he was supposed to make sure everyone got out before he or his captain could evacuate, but how could he do so when those who didn’t run fast enough were being slaughtered?_

_“Get to the escape pod, Rios!” the captain ordered. Cristóbal had no choice but to obey and hope that his captain would follow; he had the most stubborn captain to ever exist which meant that arguing was futile._

_As the door of the escape pod slid shut, Cristóbal saw the attackers breaking through the bridge door. Cristóbal beat the escape pod’s window, trying to make his captain notice the dark mass of the attackers who had boarded the ship._

_It was all in vain. Seconds before Cristóbal’s escape pod shot out of the ibn Mājid, he saw his dear captain’s head being smashed in, blood and brains splattering all over the bulkhead._

_Flying out of the ship, Cristóbal could only scream._

* * *

Cristóbal shot up, still screaming from the top of his lungs. He scrambled to the edge of his bed as the panic started getting hold of his mind once again. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and leaned forward, trying to calm down like he’d been taught. He was trembling violently, and he tugged at the messy hair while he was rocking himself back and forth.

Someone was pressing their hand gently on Cristóbal’s back, holding him down, and speaking to him. They were asking questions, grounding Cristóbal like a medical professional.

Ah. It was the emergency medical nuisance.

When the panic was only a memory at the back of his head, Cristóbal looked up. He saw the encouraging smile of the hologram who had been modelled after Cristóbal himself. That program was an absolute nuisance, always activating without permission.

“There. You’re still alive, Cristóbal”, the hologram said.

“I didn’t activate you”, Cristóbal retorted, trying to sound annoyed, but not quite managing that.

“You know very well that I activate when my program senses a medical emergency”, the hologram answered, sounding so chipper that it irked Cristóbal. “Panic attacks caused by nightmares are a common symptom of PTSD and my program concluded you needed my aid.”

Cristóbal frowned. He didn’t like it when that infuriating program tried to get inside his head; he didn’t want its pity and fake comfort. It was just a program; it didn’t even have feelings! It would never have the capacity to understand how Cristóbal felt, no matter how many times he would recount the story of what happened at ibn Mājid.

“I don’t care”, Cristóbal said. “Computer, deactivate the hologram.”

Cristóbal’s double faded out of existence and Cristóbal got up. He walked up to his little desk, sitting down at it and picking up his book. He tried to read to take his mind away from the nightmare and the fear, to be able to sleep again that night.

It didn’t work.

Cristóbal was bouncing his leg and his heart was still hammering in his chest. He couldn’t concentrate on the words – they were like a blur to him – and the memories flashed behind his eyelids every time he blinked. He groaned and rubbed his eyes, placing the book back on the table.

“ _¡No temas, mi corazón!_ ” Cristóbal whispered, repeating the phrase he’d once read from a book a lifetime ago. He had been a young boy, ready for an adventure, who, naturally, had read every adventure book there was. Verne had been his favourite and he’d read all of his books, multiple times.

“Computer, activate the emergency medical hologram”, Cristóbal commanded. The infuriating little shit materialized next to Cristóbal, smiling.

“What seems to be the problem?” he asked, chipper as ever.

“I cannot sleep”, Cristóbal said, “do something about it.”

“I was waiting for you to ask for it”, the hologram said and picked up a blanket he placed on Cristóbal’s shoulders. Cristóbal was startled by the realisation that he hadn’t been wearing any kind of shirt while reading.

“Computer! Stove”, the hologram called and soon enough he had a stove materialised in the corner of Cristóbal’s bedroom. He hummed – the program actually had the nerve to _hum_! – while he worked around the stove, boiling something.

Cristóbal was angry. The hologram’s happiness annoyed him, as did the fact that he seemed to be unable to sleep – again. His captain’s sacrifice all those years ago still made him angry – why was Cristóbal the only one to suffer from it?

That was because only a handful had survived ibn Mājid, and Cristóbal had been the only one to see his captain die. He would never forget the sight.

The hologram was done with whatever he had been boiling and approached Cristóbal with a steaming mug of…something in his hands. “Here you go, captain Rios”, the hologram said, smiling, “warm cocoa to soothe your nerves before trying to sleep again.”

 _Cocoa_? That was something only children drank after a nightmare.

“Before you yell at me or deactivate me again”, the hologram said rather hastily, “the chocolate in cocoa is known to raise serotonin levels in the brain, which should make you feel better. No guarantees for the mighty grump that you are, though.”

Cristóbal glared at the hologram and downed the cocoa in a matter of seconds, burning his mouth. He then picked up his book again and continued reading it, finding that he could finally concentrate.

After a few minutes, he looked up to see the hologram still there, smiling.

“You didn’t deactivate me, captain.”

“Seems like that”, Cristóbal said and sighed. “Sit.”

The hologram did as ordered, sitting across Cristóbal, still smiling peacefully at him. Oh, how Cristóbal wished he could still smile like that nuisance of a holographic computer program, how he wished he wouldn’t always be so angry.

“Talk”, Cristóbal said. “About anything. About, I don’t know, medical records, or research papers or something that you know a lot about. Just talk until I tell you to stop.”

The hologram smiled and began talking about the latest theoretical research on cybernetic implants on humans done by a certain doctor at the Daystrom Academy. Cristóbal raised the book back up, blocking his face from the hologram’s view.

The hologram knew, as did Cristóbal, that Cristóbal wasn’t actually reading, though.

**Author's Note:**

> Spanish key:  
> ¡No temas, mi corazón! = Do not fear, my heart
> 
> Comments fuel my soul!


End file.
